Taming the Mudblood
by Gryfforin
Summary: Hermione finds herself bound and gagged in the Slytherin Dungeons (DMBZHG) one-shot WARNING: BDSM


Summary: Hermione finds herself bound and gagged in the Slytherin Dungeons  
Warnings: BDSM  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and whoever else collects a check off of the Potter Empire. I'm just playing with them  
Author's Note: I only have a mild fascination with BDSM and do not play in real life. So what is represented here comes from what I have read and my own imagination. The character's views and expressions do not necessarily represent my own.

* * *

Taming the Mudblood   
  
Your eyes widen as his words course through you like the venom of a snake. "Head Girl, first in the class. You think you're special don't you Mudblood?"  
  
You can't respond, the charm he cast while binding your hands behind your back had ensured of that. The ball gag he added "for decoration". He has his hands fisted in your hair and is pulling down so that you are forced to look at him. "Are you scared mudblood?"  
  
You shake your head haughtily, conveying your refusal to acknowledge the fear you have of your captor. He chuckles. His laugh is much lighter than what you've heard throughout the years; showing genuine amusement. "Of course you aren't, Gryffindor pride and what not."  
  
As his fingers loosen in your hair and start to comb through the curls, you find yourself growing anxious. You are not used to this side of him. You have seen him cruel, but as he walks around you stroking your hair he appears almost kind. He raises his hand towards your cheek. Startled you take a step back. His fist clenching in your hair he pulls you back towards him harshly. "You dare to move from my touch. You are lucky I would bother touching filth like you,"  
he hisses before raising his hand to bring it sharply across your cheek. "I've owed you that one for a while," he smirks as he turns your chin to see the flush that has been left by his hand. "Get on your knees," he hisses.  
  
Still recovering from the shock of his hand across your face, you sink to the ground without hesitation. He casts a charm to remove your robe from you before lowering his wand to touch the top three buttons of your blouse; they pop loose as his wand touches each one. "Spread your knees," he says to you, his voice reminiscent of the Head of his House, low and calm but devoid of humor.  
  
You hesitantly widen your knees slightly, allowing your skirt to drape briefly at the part that you have made. He laughs. "I thought you were supposed to be an excellent student, but I see I have much to teach you." As his feet force your knees wide, you shut your eyes tight lowering your head in shame. "Look at me," he instructs and you hesitantly open your eyes and look up to his to see a smirk upon his lips. As he holds your gaze, you feel his shoe clad foot slide against your thighs, bunching the fabric of your skirt up to your waist.  
  
You don't even try to contain the tears as they start to roll down your cheeks, his foot pressing against your mound. He has you bound and gagged in the bowels of the dungeons and you know that you are at his mercy until, no if, he decides to release you. You lower your eyes trying to blink back the tears as you accept your situation. "No, your eyes will remain on me. The only time you are to lower your eyes or head is when instructed or acknowledging a command. Is that understood?"  
  
You lower your eyelids and bow your head to convey your understanding then raise your eyes once more to meet his. "Perhaps there is hope for you after all. I had thought that you would be a lost cause; too prideful to submit. But you follow directions well mudblood." You blink your eyes once deliberately, acknowledging that you are listening to his words. As his hand rises towards your head again you remain still, unwilling to flinch away again. "I am going to remove  
the gag from your mouth and your bindings for the time being. You cannot escape therefore I advise against trying. If you do, I will be forced to respond appropriately. Do you understand?"  
  
You bow your head and lower your eyelids once more, stretching your mouth as the ball gag is removed from your lips. You prepare to ask him why he is doing this, but your hand raises to your throat as the words will not come forth. "You are charmed. I merely removed the gag so that you could drink." As he frees your hands from behind your back you look up expectantly at him. Ice water rains down on your face as he pours a pitcher over you. You sputter and gasp as some of the water made it into your nasal passage. "I hope that your thirst was sufficiently quenched because there will be no more until I dismiss you."  
  
You soften your eyes to look up at him pleadingly. He laughs again. "I am not one of your house mates. I will not be directed by you. If you are still thirsty I suggest you lap up what remains." You are not willing to debase yourself to licking the ground, instead you raise the soaked material of your blouse to your lips, wringing the water into your mouth. When you have taken what moisture you could from the cloth your eyes look back up to him, smiling.  
  
His eyebrow lifts, amused by your feeling of cleverness. "It's a bit cold in the dungeons, it wouldn't do to send you back ill. We must get you out of those wet clothes." As you feel your eyes widening again, he lowers his wand to your blouse. You hear him say "diffindu" as the remainder of your blouse is cut open. As you feel the cold air of the dungeon against your wet skin, you draw in a breath, trying to ignore the arousal you are feeling at your nipples as he removes the torn garment from your body.  
  
"You might be surprised to know that even I, like to do some things the muggle way," he states matter of factly, pulling a knife crested in silver with emeralds decorating the handle. "Of course, it has been magically altered to never dull," he continues as he lifts the straps of your bra away from your skin and cuts them, before doing the same to the front of the bra. You sit still as he moves the knife slowly in front of your face, unsure of his intentions. As he moves the knife from your right ear across towards the center of your face, you startle as the heat of the blade grazes your skin, causing the knife to slice open a shallow cut on your skin.  
  
"Did I mention that the knife is also charmed to remain just below the temperature where it will cause your skin to readily blister?" He grins as he smears your blood with the flat of the knife before dragging it down to mar your breasts. He raises his wand to your cheek, stopping the blood flow and healing the cut with a healing spell. "Are you afraid yet?"  
  
You lower your eyes and head without reserve this time. He had drawn your blood, and then smeared it across your flesh. He hated you and you had no idea why he had you here. "Good, that is the point." You look at him questioningly, tilting your head to the side and he smirks, gathering your hair in his hands. "You think I mean to rape and hurt you," he asks with his eyebrow arched, his lips slightly upturned. As you lower your eyes to signal your ascent, he tugs your hair and pulls you violently from the ground.  
  
"Let me make this perfectly clear for you. No matter what nonsense your head has been filled with about the lack of distinction between pure bloods and your kind, I have no use for that filthy cunt of yours except to bring it pain." He shoves you roughly to the floor again and tears fill your eyes. Your body is wracking with silent sobs as you hear his footsteps fade in the distance.  
  
"Finite Incantum," you hear whispered softly as your cloak is pulled over your shoulders. "Scourgify," is cast and you see that the blood that had been smeared against your breasts has been removed.  
  
You look up into pained indigo eyes in confusion. "You, you let him, you let him humiliate me?"  
  
He pulls you in his arms and strokes your hair softly. "I didn't know what else to do. You kept asking me, told me that if I couldn't give you what you wanted you would seek it elsewhere. I didn't want to hurt you, and I couldn't watch you get hurt. I love you too much."  
  
"So you decided to show me what being dominated meant," you ask through your tears. "But why him, he h-h-hates me, he could have killed me."  
  
"He doesn't hate you love. But years of brainwashing tells him that's what he's supposed to feel. If he hated you he would never have stroked your hair the way he did and I would have had to stop him from  
hurting you."  
  
"How did you know," you ask him, wondering how this beautiful man that you almost cast out of your life knew better than you did what you needed.  
  
"I've been in your position before love. To serve your lover's every desire sounds erotic in theory, but to lose or give up your will; that fire that makes you special; that is dangerous. I chose him, because I knew he could make you see the darker side of the lifestyle better  
than anyone else and because I trust him not to hurt you."  
  
You bury your head in his shoulder, clinging onto him as he kisses your shoulder gently, rubbing your back as your breathing returns to normal. When you finally allow him to pull you to stand and leave with him, you notice him pick up the ball gag that was lying on the floor next to you. You look at him in disbelief.  
  
His eyes twinkle as he catches your gaze. "Just because I don't want to be your Master, doesn't mean I won't play the role." As he playfully swats your behind and pulls your hair firmly to kiss your mouth you realize that perhaps not everything in life need be thoroughly researched. Vowing to tear up the silly slave contract you had drawn up you decide to let go and trust your lover to give you every thing you need. 


End file.
